I Said Bling. Mama Said Cookie.

Dear Cleopatra Prada. Definitely not.

Hi Cleopatra Prada. No.

Hi Cleopatra Prada, it's Toffy. OMD! What has happened to my super smart brain? It was working fine before I met Cleopatra Prada yesterday! But now it seemed to be on strike. So I closed my pawPad. What was the point? No words were popping that were of any use.

But wait. What was that? A new idea in my head. My super-smart brain was clearly not completely on strike. A gift — that's genius! The right gift, I was certain, could walk through Cleopatra Prada's front door and say everything my pawPad couldn't. And even though I had only just met her, this would be easy because I noticed she wore a lot of pink and plenty of bling. So I was sure that if I got her something shiny and sparkly, that would do the trick — she'd love the gift, and then hopefully she'd love me too. So that night, when Mama and I went on our evening walk, I managed to direct us into Woof Gang, and I immediately headed over to the bling section of the store. Mama was understandably surprised when I bypassed the treats without even a sniff. But I knew she'd figured out why when I presented her with the gift I intended to buy. Two pink hair bows with the pawfect amount of bling. What a relief! Now I didn't have to go home and try to write a romantic pawmail.

But Mama wasn't having any of this. She looked at the bedazzled pink bows. Then she looked at me. "Not so fast, Floof," she said. That isn't how this works."

What was she talking about? How else could it go? I met Cleopatra Prada. I fell instantly in love. Valentine's Day is coming up. She likes bling. These had bling. I didn't see the issue. And as always, it was as if Mama was reading my mind. "First, you need to ask Cleopatra Prada if she would like to be your Valentine. And then if she says yes, you buy her a small gift. But a first Valentine's Day gift is never bling. It's always a heart-shaped cookie."

No way! Not on my watch! But I could see Mama meant business, and this wasn't up for discussion. My heart stopped. My tummy dropped. And my blood — it started to boil. So, with all my might, I tugged, and I pulled, and I dragged my Mama right out of the store. I made a beeline for home without even stopping to pee on my favorite bush.

I went straight to my Zen Den — which wasn't feeling very zen just then. I opened my pawPad again and tried again to write the pawfect pawmail to send Cleopatra Prada.

But nothing had changed in my brain, except now it wasn't just frustrated — it was also extremely annoyed with my Mama.

I typed. I deleted. I typed. I deleted. Typed something I was certain I'd die if anyone saw. Deleted that one for sure. Whatever I wrote was either too boring or too sappy. Too needy or too pawsumptuous. I couldn't believe what was happening in my head, or, more accurately, what was not happening in my head.

And somewhere between the trying and the failing, and a Zen Den full of emotions I had no idea what to do with — I fell asleep dreaming about the one and only, Cleopatra Prada.

The next day, I woke up feeling totally defeated. I skipped breakfast and lunch and some of my treats — which, after my meltdown at Woof Gang the night before, alerted Mama to the fact that I was clearly struggling with a real-life love situation.

She asked how she could help. The answer was easy! "Since you won't let me buy the bedazzled pink hair bows for Cleopatra Prada, I need you to write a pawmail I can send her." I was sure she'd say yes. But when I heard her response, I realized her super-smart brain was also on strike because her idea for helping out was the opposite of smart.

"Why don't I take you to Cleopatra Prada's house, and you can ask her in person if she'd like to be your Valentine?"

I looked at Mama like she had just grown 10 heads. What? Go to her house and ask her out loud. Without a screen to protect me. No option to delete or unsend. Why would I do that? What if she says no? I'll look like an idiot. I'll never be able to go back there again. Mama must have seen the absolute shock on my face!

"Floof, not only is this the gentlemanly thing to do, but when there is something as impawtant as this clearly is to you, saying your words nose to nose is the right thing to do and will always be better received and more appreciated than if you send them via pawmail. I'll drive you to Cleopatra Prada's house. I'll wait in the car while you run in and ask her, and before you know it, we'll be back home planning your Valentine's date."

I felt sick to my stomach, and my legs were already starting to shake. But I really wanted Cleopatra Prada to be my Valentine, so I was willing to do what would be ridiculously scary for maybe 10 minutes rather than risk being sorry for the rest of my life for not even trying.

"Fine," I said. "Just give me 5 minutes to get myself ready."

I had learned from Mama, over the years, to be all in on the things that matter, or don't bother to be in at all. And I'd just chosen to be all in and do the gentlemanly thing. And if I was going to do what a gentleman does, I wanted to look like one too. So I picked out one of my favorite bow ties to wear. And asked Mama to comb my hair. And I hopped in the car and never spoke one word.

Before I could even take one deep breath, we were already outside Cleopatra Prada's house. Mama turned off the engine and said, "Floof, just be yourself and ask what's in your heart. I'll be right here waiting for you. I'm so proud of you for being so brave. I love you to the moon and back." What Mama said made me feel super proud, too. But it didn't change how nervous I was. And the closer I got to the front door, the slower I walked. Until I noticed the strangest thing. My tail hadn't received the memo about how nervous I was. And the closer I got to the front door, the faster it wagged. And my tail never lies or gives a false vibe. So I thought to myself — if my tail was so excited, then I must be too. And it was like a switch had flipped in my head, and not a second too soon. Because all of a sudden, the front door opened. And there she was. Tall, beautiful, graceful, and sporting some bling.

"Hi Cleo," I said. "Hi Toffy, would you like to come in?"

I was about to say no, and just pop the question, and run back to Mama as fast as I could. But Aunty Bev spotted me at the door and insisted I come in. And then Uncle David appeared to see what was happening. OMD, you have to be kidding me. Now I have to ask Cleopatra Prada to be my Valentine in front of the whole family. Whatever happened to boundaries and privacy? I had to think fast on my paws and come up with a reason to leave as soon as the job was done. And thank goodness, when I needed it most, my smart brain stepped up to the plate.

"I can't stay long because Mama's waiting in the car, and she's in a hurry. I just want to ask you, Cleopatra Prada, if you'd be my one and only Valentine date."

Silence. Nothing. I think everyone including me stopped breathing. OMD — is she going to say no? My head started spinning. I thought I would faint. If that's even a thing that happens to dogs. How would I ever come back here again? This had to be the worst moment of my life.

And before I could fully process what had just happened — I was walking back to the car to go home with my Mama. I could tell by the look on her face that my face had not yet adjusted to what I'd just heard. I hopped into my seat. Not saying a word. Mama said nothing. She just let me be.

And halfway home, it finally registered. And I barked out to Mama: "OMD. She said yes!" I couldn't believe it. Cleopatra Prada said yes to being my one and only Valentine. I felt like the king of the world. And I could tell Mama was trying to be cool. But I saw a tear or two pop out of her eyes, and I knew how happy she was for her precious little floof. And I was also sure a tear or two was pure relief that she wouldn't be putting a broken heart back together that night. Mama was right. This taught me paws down that when something or someone matters to you, you shut down your laptop. You get up and get dressed in your best. And you show up, and you speak up — even if you're scared.

And eleven sleeps later — because I showed up — Mama and I were headed to Aunty Bev and Uncle Dave and Cleopatra Prada for Valentine's Day dinner.

I wore a red heart-patterned tie to match the red heart cookie I was taking for my Valentine. The gift that wasn't my choice because it had no bling. The gift I was embarrassed to give. But when I handed Cleopatra Prada her cookie, she smiled — and handed me the exact same one back. Just like that, without a single word, we both knew. I get you, and you get me. And we had the best night eating them together. And now I can see why no amount of bling you can buy can ever replace showing up for the ones you love. But that's not going to stop me from buying Cleopatra Prada the pink bedazzled hair bows at Woof Gang — just because I want to.

And just like that — Scottsdale's most eligible bachelor. Eight years running. Was officially off the market. Toffy xoxo

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